~
Several months had passed. Philip had still gone every morning to the resting place of Molly. There was a difference now. He would still speak to her. Only now, he was promising her that he would find their son.
“Molly, we could not share this together and for that I will always have regret.” He said as his heart broke. He promised he would bring Andrew home to where he would rightfully take his place in the family. He was the only family Philip had left. He would make things right, as right as they could be.
He had Fletcher on the trail of Lester and his son. If he could find Rebecca in the mountains of the west he certainly could find a man traveling with a child. He had to find them, bring Lester to justice and his son home.
He worked day and night at the newspaper. He put all his energy into rebuilding the empire that would belong to his only child. Philip even took the risk of public humiliation by using the newspaper to tell his story. He had hoped to make his plight known to as many as possible. Hopefully, someone would eventually read the story and have a lead to his son.
Every morning and every night he would attempt to get up from his wheelchair. He was driven and could not be stopped. The staff advised him that he would not walk again. They feared he might hurt himself further with this foolish quest.
In about six months he was able to stand. He did this for several months for longer periods each time. One night after several months of standing for extended periods of time, Philip felt certain that he could take a step.
His hands were shaking as he lifted himself. He stood for ten minutes. It took every bit of strength he had. His face was flushed and there were beads of sweat rolling down his face. It took all his concentration to move his right foot slightly. He could feel pain in his back. He stopped due to the pain. This relaxed his spine enough to send him falling to the floor.
Mrs. Walters had moved into the main house when Jeremiah had passed away. She knew there might be times that Philip would need help. She heard him cry out when he had fallen. She raced into the room. He was too heavy to move herself. Philip remained on the floor until she could get help.
This was not discouraging him in the least. In fact, he was optimistic. Lester would not win. He would walk again if it took years.
~30~
Winner Takes All
Fletcher Stone was in his favorite watering hole in Virginia. He had bought an expensive steak dinner and a cheap whore. He loved the lifestyle the Butlers had provided for him. He was discouraged because he did not have any leads. He had heard of a man and boy in the foothills of Virginia. It turned out to be a family instead. He needed to return to Boston and let Philip know that he was not finding anything. He was not too concerned. He had made a comfortable living for himself. He was a drifter and not in need of too many amenities.
What did he care about this kid? He did not care about Philip, either. He would soon be out of options and out of a job. There was not need to return. He would take a chance gambling the last bit of money he had from Philip.
In the morning Fletcher decided to engage in a poker game. He was not above cheating. This time he did it to the wrong person.
For years, Fletcher Stone had used the same trick. It worked because he carefully planned it before indulging in a game. He would single out a man who looked as though he wanted a drink but could not afford it. He would offer him all the drinks he could stomach for the day if he assisted him during a poker game. He would give him a signal. Usually he would tap on the table in a certain sequence to signal to his accomplice.
Today he had found a man who was willing to play along. To insure his cooperation he had bought him several rounds to keep him happy during the game. When Fletcher needed a distraction he would signal by tapping the table three different times as though contemplating his next move. The man would cause a ruckus of some kind, therefore momentarily causing a distraction. It would be enough of a disturbance to break the concentration of the other players but not enough to disrupt the game.
Fletcher Stone could feel that moment approaching. He had gambled away most of his money. His last ten dollars was all he had banking on this hand. He held a queen of hearts and a queen of spades. He had an ace of diamonds up his sleeve. He gave the inebriated stranger the signal.
The man yelled. He pointed to something outside beckoning the attention of the men in the saloon. Oddly enough, the slight distraction was enough for Fletcher Stone to pull out his card. No one saw it. No one saw except for Michael Blackwood who had a lot to lose on this hand.
“Pair of queens, ace high,” he said with a smile and saliva running out of the side of his cigar filled mouth.
Michael Blackwood let him finish the game. Fletcher Stone continued to play until the others withdrew, winning the game.
After the men had finished the game due to loss of funds, Fletcher Stone treated himself to a bottle of the best whiskey in the house.
Michael approached him.
“I saw what you did. Kind of clever I must say, but not too original. Maybe the others were green to it but I saw right through it.”
Fletcher was not rattled a bit by the accusation. “I do not know what you are talking about.”
“I will give you one more chance to pony up to me,” Michael said.
“You can go to hell!” Fletcher Stone was unaffected.
Michael pulled out his gun. “I said give me the money that you cheated me out of.”
This was becoming more entertaining by the moment for Fletcher. He stood and pulled out his gun also. The inhabitants of the bar braced themselves for a shooting. The bar owner knew Fletcher and his antics. He also knew he was the best shot he had ever seen.
“I would not go up against Fletcher Stone if I was you, boy,” he warned Michael.
Michael Blackwood did not know what to do. He would look like a coward if he were to back down. However, when he picked the fight he did not know that he was up against Fletcher Stone. His life meant more to him than his pride at the moment. He knew he was not a good shot and it would have been suicide to attempt a confrontation with Fletcher Stone. He backed down and slowly walked out of the saloon.
Fletcher Stone was not surprised that the man did not put up a fight. Fletcher Stone was a known gunslinger and he had up to this point been the one to walk away from a confrontation.
“Go home to mommy,” he mocked the young man as he left the establishment humiliated.
Fletcher Stone slapped the bottom of the whore he could now afford for more than an hour and climbed the stairs behind her.
He had made back the money that was given to him by Philip. He was not going to return to Boston. This would also be a loss to Philip. What a pity. It was a chance Philip took trusting that he would return with news of his son. Fletcher had a handsome amount of money to start over in a place where no one knew him.
Much to the pleasure of the lady of the night Fletcher Stone was in a drunken stupor. It did not take him long to pass out soon after they had entered her room.
When he woke he was in the stable where he had boarded his horse. He was still very drunk and incoherent.
He thought he saw a figure moving in front of him. He reached for his satchel. It was securely under his back. He was confident that the whore did not take more than her share. He had become one of her regulars.
He opened his eyes again. He could sense someone there but did not have the strength to react, as he should. He could feel the presence closing in on him.
Fletcher Stone would not ever feel anything after the first initial blow to his head. The wound would cause him to bleed to death. When he was found in the morning he would be dead.
Michael Blackwood stood over the sad state of Fletcher Stone. He removed the saddlebag from beneath his body. He smiled at justice served. He left with the winnings of the day and the money that Philip had intended for the location of his son.
~31~
Jack ,the Saving Grace
I had one last visit w
ith Tiponi. We talked well into the night. He told me so much that I was into overload. It was a very moving and emotional ending. I knew I would be much better at putting it into words rather than telling it to Jack. I was kind of quiet when I returned home. The characters were racing in my mind and wanted someone to put into words the events of their lives. Jack could sense this and made me some hot tea.
It was very late and even the festivities had come to a halt. The fair was into its last day and things were winding down. I felt overwhelmed and would need time for my head to clear.
“Here, this will help you sleep,” he said as he handed me some chamomile tea. We sat for a while in silence. I was so grateful to have him there. Sometimes writing can be a lonely endeavor. While you are at the keyboard your characters are jumping at you with conversation and action. When you walk away you may still carry them within your soul but they cannot keep you warm at night.
“I don’t think that I could have done this without you Jack,” I said as I sipped the tea.
“Sure you could have,” he said not knowing what an influence he was.
I chuckled. “I am so grateful. I should be through soon and we can head back home. I would just like to spend the day here to finish. It is still quite an inspiration.”
“I understand,” he said.
“But, after tomorrow.” He wanted me to delay my writing. “I know how you like your all-nighters so I am going to plan a day for you tomorrow. Then when we get back we can have some dinner and you will start. How does that sound?”
He had relieved the burden of diving into this immediately. I liked some time to hash through what I was going to write before I did it.
“That sounds just perfect.”
The following day we were able to get horses and ride into the mountains. We rode fast and let our hair fly freely in the wind. There was no one around in the hills and it was so nice to feel the warm summer breeze. We made a picnic lunch and played the day away. I loved to tease him and we would run and play all those romantic games. Jack was a lot of fun and helped bring out the joyful side of me. I could tend to get too serious when I was in the middle of a project. He would bring me back to what was really important when I became too pragmatic. He certainly was my balance.
We would not be here much longer and I think while we were both ready for home, we would miss this place. We had come to a new understanding of our love here in the mountains. That made it so special.
I looked at Jack when he was not aware and wondered how I could have been so foolish as to almost let him go. I had kept in contact with the kids almost every day and they were elated that we were together. They were anxious to hear about the trip. I missed them very much. I was sure that we would return to a party. This was as good excuse as any to have a celebration.
We stayed in the mountains until nightfall. Then we returned to the cabin and me to my laptop. Jack was tired when we got home. Funny thing, I always seemed to have more energy. What was I going to do with this old man?
~32~
The Attic Window
It had been almost two years since Philip lost Molly. The fact that Fletcher Stone had not returned did not surprise Philip. He knew that his ornery disposition would someday entitle him to a trip six feet under. There was also the possibility that he could not locate Andrew and Lester. Rather than return he could have chosen to take the money from Philip and disappear. It did not matter; it had been worth the risk.
It was time to take the matter into his own hands. He would have to venture out and attempt to locate them before they traveled too far. He was losing precious time.
Philip had to fight the feelings of desperation. In the years since he had lost Molly he had learned to think differently. Had he concentrated on the loss of her and his son he would have gone mad. Instead he held fast to the thought of someday being reunited with his son.
His last correspondence with Fletcher had been from Virginia. Fletcher had reported that the only new people who had entered the town had been a family.
Philip decided not to discard this lead. What would have kept Lester from remarrying? It would have made perfect sense. It would serve a dual purpose. He would have a wife to care for him and Andrew. She would also be a deterrent. They would be less conspicuous. He was not sure why Fletcher Stone had not thought of that himself.
~
Philip checked into a room at the hotel in the late morning. The town was very busy and he was hopeful to find someone that could help him. It was a long shot but he had to seek it out for himself. He was sure that Lester had changed his name. Maybe he had even changed Andrew’s name. As hopeless as the situation might seem he could not rest without at least trying.
Philip made himself comfortable in the local saloon. The inhabitants of the town seemed to be quite friendly. Philip carefully picked his questions. He wanted it to appear that he was interested in making the town his permanent residence.
He was able to ascertain that this was a well-established and old town. He learned about the founders as well as the more recent citizens. After careful deduction he thought Lester might be the local blacksmith.
Philip had seen Andrew as a baby. By now, Andrew was close to the age of three. He felt in his heart that if he could see him, he would know him.
He had never seen Lester. However, he did have the Wanted poster with a sketching of Lester Black. He doubted that Lester knew who he was. He was banking on that. He was taking his life in his hands by approaching Lester. The beguiled husband of Molly who had attempted to take his life before would probably not hesitate given another opportunity.
Philip did not give it a second thought. His life had little meaning since the death of Molly. What kept his spirits afloat was the hope of one day finding Andrew. He would risk anything, even his own life.
Philip approached the blacksmith’s shop. There was a battle inside that he fought hard to contain. He was about to encounter Molly’s killer. If he were to seek vengeance he would never be reunited with his son. He carefully approached the door of the shop.
“Excuse me,” Philip said to Lester.
Lester turned to face Philip.
Philip hesitated. He knew this was Lester.
As a wanted man Lester had always been keenly astute to strangers. He knew in an instant that this was Philip. He would never forget his face. He fought hard to control his rage.
He was in the same position as Philip. If he were to reveal himself he would be arrested. He smiled to himself feeling that he still had the upper hand. There were many circumstances in Lester’s life that Philip was not aware of. He was hurting Philip more this way than if he took his life.
“My name is Caleb Bower,” Philip lied. “I have traveled quite some distance. I was wondering if you could take a look at my wagon. I have a bit of a journey left and it is in need of repair.”
Lester nodded. He did not want to converse with Philip. He also did not want to give any information to Philip.
“When would be a good time to bring it around?” Philip persisted.
“Tomorrow morning.” Lester said as he turned away.
That was all Philip needed to hear. He knew by the two words that Lester spoke that he was from the east coast. Philip could feel the blood rush to his head. He had to be careful. Lester had eluded him before. He did not want to scare him off. He turned and left.
He would seek the help of the town officials. He was not sure they would believe him. It was hard to control his emotions He had to be very cautious. If he did not plan his strategy well he would lose Andrew forever.
Lester was not going anywhere quickly. He did not seem to know Philip. For that Philip was grateful. He would return to the hotel. There he would plan his next step.
In the attic of the apartment that was above the shop a woman looked between the grates at Philip as he walked away. A tear ran down the face of Molly as she watched helpless in her desire to run to him. She could not scream out to Philip although every fiber
in her body wanted to scream out to him.
~33~
A Bane Existence
Molly sat rigid in the front seat of the wagon. She held her sleeping child to her breast as they fled into the night.
She could not look at Lester. She loathed him more now more than ever before. She closed her eyes to escape her latest reality. There she could vividly see Philip. He walked with a limp and had the use of a cane. He was not confined to a wheelchair as Lester had so boastfully bragged. She smiled in spite of her loneliness and longing for him.
She kept reflecting on the moment that she first saw Philip approaching their home. She could feel her heart racing and her limbs became weak.
She had just prepared lunch for Lester. She was gazing out the window as she often did. Lester could see the expression on her face. He looked out the window and saw Philip.
“What the hell is he doing here?” he shouted.
He took hold of Molly and pushed her away from the window. He shoved her with such force that she fell to the floor.
“Get out of here!” he demanded.
He pushed her toward the stairs.
“Go up there and do not come down. If you make a sound I will kill him on the spot. Remember I have nothing to lose,” he warned her.
Molly sat in the hot attic wanting to scream out to Philip. She prayed that her sleeping son would awaken. She wanted Philip to know he had found them. Her heart sank as she watched him walk away.
Lester did not stop traveling for a month. He found a job on a farm that was able to provide room and board for him and his family. He would make this a temporary hideaway. When he felt secure he would find a more permanent residence.
The Spirits of Nature Page 22
